


Fireflies

by ElvenSemi



Series: Inspiration [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, elves being EXTREMELY ELFY, fade stuff, made up nonsense that hopefully meshes with cannon, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenSemi/pseuds/ElvenSemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a templar Knight-Captain smites you, you stay smote. Lavellan finds out something new about the Fade, about herself, and about her Keeper. </p><p>Takes place directly after S.O.S.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireflies

There was no getting around it. Being smote by a Templar absolutely sucked. 

Lavellan was so sullen about it that she couldn’t even flirt properly with Cullen. He was ex-templar, but the first time he’d come to check on her, she’d devolved into demanding if he’d even done _that_ to another mage. She shouldn’t have… she regretted it the second it came out of her mouth. In retrospect, however, it would have been smarter to apologize, rather than just run away. Now Cullen was sulking just as much as the young elf, frustrating Varric to no end. 

Wanting to avoid the awkward silence that would reign almighty if she entered the Chantry, she had jumped the walls of Haven and found a tree to hide in. There she waited, arms wrapped around her legs, expression dire. She didn’t want to talk to any of her friends. Cassandra would be mad at her for snapping at Cullen. Varric would tell her what she already knew, that she should probably apologize, and Solas… Well, Solas would try to get her to take that stupid potion of his and fall back asleep. 

She’d slept through the night, but it was hard to recover from a good hard smite, as it turned out. And she had been mightily smote, at that… As it turned out, the man who attacked her was no ordinary Templar, but the lead Templar of the rebels, a Knight-Captain. She wouldn’t be recovering quickly. When a Knight-Captain smote you, you stayed smote. So now, Solas was suggesting she basically put herself into a coma to recover her power more quickly. She was opposed to the idea for a multitude of reasons, but none of them mattered, because when Solas got too close to her, her brain began skipping about like a three wheeled aravel. If he just _told_ or to drink it, or god forbid, asked nicely, she would probably do it before she even realized what was happening. And she was not spending 24 hours in the Fade, by herself, with no one but dreams for company. 

And so, the graceful and dignified Herald of Andraste was hiding in a tree. 

A very tall tree, as a matter of fact. She could see Haven from where she sat, and could see people running about. Probably trying to find her. Well, they wouldn’t. Not unless they could fly. Lavellan was a better climber than anyone in her Clan, even stupid Arissa, who thought she was so great. She could climb higher, faster, and perch on narrower branches than just about anybody. 

So, one could imagine how startled she was to hear a voice coming from a branch on the other side of the tree. 

“So, what are we looking for?” 

Grace was one of Lavellan’s many gifts. A steady heart and strong constitution were not. She started, losing her balance on the thin branch. She caught herself as she slipped off of it, and yanked herself back up again with one arm. 

“Fehendis, Solas!” she snapped, clinging to her branch, not wanting to lose her balance again. “How did you get up here? Without me noticing, at that?” 

“I climbed,” he said mildly. As if he could see her expression, he added, “Quietly.” 

“Oh, well, yes, of course. Silly me. You climbed quietly.” She judged the distance to the ground, but thought better of jumping. She didn’t want to bang herself up again; she was getting a reputation at this point. She scowled. “I… I don’t want to take the potion, Solas,” she said, quietly. 

“I rather gathered that when you slipped out in the morning before I arrived. But I did not mention it. Why did you?” 

She shifted on the narrow branch, running her fingers between her toes self-consciously. “I, um… I actually…” She sighed. Might as well come out with it. “I’m actually not good at dealing with the Fade. At all. I know just enough to keep from being possessed. Mostly. …Barely.” 

She was glad that she couldn’t see Solas’ face. The expression she was imagining was wrecking her; the real thing probably actually would send her tumbling from the tree. 

“Did your Keeper not instruct you-“ he began after a moment’s silence. 

“Yes. Unfortunately, the problem is mine. I… don’t think my connection with the Fade is very strong. I can barely tell when I’m being visited by a spirit.” 

“That’s not it, da’len,” Solas said. She could HEAR his frown, dear gods, why. “If that were the case, you would not be as skilled with magic as you are, especially at such a young age. There may be something else going on.” 

She paused. It was her turn to be confused. She wrapped her upper torso around the trunk of the tree, balancing the soles of her feet on the narrow branch. The branch on which Solas was sitting on turned out to be slightly higher than hers. She was expecting her face to be slightly above him, but instead, she was roughly as high as his chest. She almost bumped into his shoulder, but managed to balance herself, clinging to the tree like a squirrel. 

“What do you mean?” she demanded, her face more serious than it had been the day the Mark cut through her hand. “Something going on?” 

Solas was not looking disappointed, but considerate, thoughtful. “I should have paid more attention to you while you slept last night,” he said, seemingly to himself. “Perhaps I might have noticed.” He tapped a long finger against his chin, then looked down at the young elf girl. “Da’len, I’m going to suggest something. I want you to hear me out the whole way, before you interrupt.” 

She knew she had a tendency to interject in conversations, but he didn’t have to make it sound like she was twelve. She pouted, which was very unchildlike, of course. “Alright, hahren. What do you have in mind?” 

“Firstly, you take the potion.” He placed his finger over her lips, which were already parting to protest. “I said _listen_ ,” he said firmly. She flushed, but her mouth stayed closed. “You take the potion. I will examine you, then sleep nearby, to accompany you into the Fade. I will see if I can find out what might be causing your difficulties connecting to the Fade, and you will get the rest you need.” 

Before he could remove his finger to give her a chance to talk, she gave it a quick lick. He looked startled, then confused. She smiled. “Don’t put anything near my mouth that you don’t want to be bitten, hahren.” 

His expression was unreadable, much to her consternation. She sighed. “I… I can’t fault your logic, however.” The idea that she wasn’t just a terrible mage when it came to the Fade was an appealing one. She wasn’t altogether certain what Solas meant by accompanying her to the Fade, but she supposed he knew what she was talking about. Roughly ninety-eight percent of her knowledge of the Fade came from him waxing poetic, but she didn’t like the idea of admitting that. And this chance, even if it was small, was worth the possibility of being stuck alone in the Fade all day. 

“I’ll do it,” she decided. “If you think it’s best.” 

Solas smiled, and ruffled a hand through her dark brown hair, mussing it, throwing locks into her face. “Good, da’len. Come down with me. I will find a place for us to rest.” 

He began down the tree immediately, which was just as well for Lavellan, as her face lit up, bright as the red apples of Val Royeux. If he had run his hand through her hair before making a request, he probably could have convinced her that if she jumped from the tree, she could fly. 

She allowed herself a second to compose herself, and then followed Solas down the tree. It amused her to see that he climbed so well due to his long arms and legs. He was tall for an elf… thick too. Muscular. If he wasn’t so large, she reasoned to herself, she would definitely still be the better climber. She scampered and swung, at times attached to the tree by only a few fingers or the curve of her ankle. 

When they both came to the bottom, Solas was smiling. She looked at him, cautiously. He looked too amused; it was probably a bad sign. 

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked warily. 

“Oh, nothing… You just reminded me of a creature I once saw echoes of, deep in the fade. Swinging about the tree like that…” He covered his mouth, hiding quivering lips, and then cleared his throat. 

She tilted her head. She doubted this was a flattering comparison, the way he was trying not to laugh. WELL. She could think of unflattering comparisons, as well. Not that she would share them with him. 

And then he was gesturing her forward, and they were walking through the snowy hills together, back towards Haven. As it turned out, it was just a pit stop. Solas gathered up some supplies into a bag (which he handed to HER, she noted), explained to Cassandra what they were doing, and picked up the potion mentioned the night before. Cassandra seemed relieved that someone had found her, although Lavellan couldn’t understand why. She’d been gone at most an hour. As they headed back outside of the walls of Haven, she expressed her confusion on the matter. 

“Don’t you know? She and Josephine fret constantly that you’ll just up and run off into the woods one day, never to be seen again. With the way you ran out, she was likely certain that was what was happening,” Solas said matter-of-factly. 

Lavellan blinked. “What, are they stupid? I have too much work to do on a daily basis to scatter myself to the winds. If I thought the Breach was so unimportant, I would have fled the second Cassandra cut my wrists free.” 

Solas laughed. “They don’t know you very well yet, da’len. And they are very aware that their fates rest with you. That frightens them.” 

Lavellan shuffled her feet, kicking up powdered snow. “I’m very aware of that, as well. I suspect it frightens me more.” 

“You carry more responsibility than any, and certainly any your age. You are doing well.” 

“I appreciate you saying that, hahren, even with the crack about my age. But I do worry. Not many humans can read the ages of elves, thankfully, so my ears are often more of an issue than my years.” Goofily, she chuckled at her own pun. “Besides, I started showing magic when I was seven, and most don’t show until they’re past their first decade, my Keeper said. I’m old, for my age.” 

At that, Solas snorted. She turned to look at him, startled. She’d never heard him make such a sound. Now he was attempting to cough to hide his laughter, but failing. 

“What? I am,” she said, offended. 

“Truly, you are, da’len,” Solas apologized, attempting to regain his composure. “It was merely the turn of phrase that amused me. Ir abelas.” 

“It’s fine,” she replied, slightly mollified, if still somewhat confused. Solas found strange things amusing, sometimes. “Where are we going, anyway?” 

“Into the woods, some distance. There is a small altar in a clearing. A good place to rest; especially if the intent is to travel well and truly into the Fade.” 

Lavellan nodded, but she was nervous. She couldn’t explore the Fade the way Solas described. Perhaps with lyrium… but the wasn’t something that a Dalish Clan could easily come by. She didn’t want to bore or disappoint Solas. Nor did she particularly want to be bored herself. Spending a day asleep was not her day of a good time. 

Eventually, they came to Solas’ clearing. Lavellan plopped the bag of supplies onto the snow, looking into it for the first time. “Ir then! You brought a _tent_?” 

“Of course,” Solas said, gesturing vaguely towards the sky. “It will likely snow while you rest. I would do no good for your to recover your strength only to catch a common cold.” 

“You brought _one_ tent,” Lavellan realized. This day just kept getting worse. 

“Yes, as I said, it may snow,” Solas said. She glanced over. He was examining the altar, barely listening to what she was saying. With a sigh, she pulled out the supplies and began making camp. This, at least, she was experienced with. She set camp quickly, setting down thick leathers under their tent to be sure the wet from the snow would not creep in. She went to lay down a fire rune, and was once again rudely reminded that her magic had not yet recovered. She groaned in frustration; the sound seemed to attract Solas’ attention again. 

“Ah, you’ve set the tent up. Very nice.” 

“I was trying to put down a fire rune for warmth,” she complained. “But I can’t.” 

“Peace, da’len. With luck, you will recover soon. And perhaps we will solve the problem in your connection with the Fade.” He carelessly tossed the rest of the bag into the tent, then gestured for her to go inside. 

She found, suddenly, that she was nervous. The tent was certainly big enough for two. More than large enough. It wasn’t as though they would be on top of each other. But nonetheless, she suddenly became aware that she was alone, in the woods with Solas, about to go into a tent so that he could watch her sleep. 

Well, she thought to herself, I can add it to the list of strange things that have happened to me since that Breach opened. With a deep breath, she ducked into the tent, getting onto her hands and knees to unpack their bedrolls. 

She put them on opposite sides of the tent and sat down on hers. There was plenty of space, of course. Solas would hardly have gotten a tiny tent for the two of them to cram into, especially If he was planning on working magic. Then he climbed into the tent as well, and it suddenly seemed an awful lot smaller. The whole world felt a little bit tighter… or maybe that was just her chest. 

This was a horrible idea for reasons she hadn’t even considered. And she a person who normally slept in the nude, too… Thank goodness he would be drugging her, or she would never be able to sleep at all. 

“So, um, how does this work?” she asked awkwardly, desperately trying to fill the silence as he rummaged through the bag. 

“On your end, it will be quite simple. You will take this draught, and you will go to sleep. The rest is for me to do.” 

“Is there anything I should, uh, watch out for? It’s just, the Keeper told me over and over how dangerous the Fade is.” Solas lips began to curl downward. “And-I-know-your-quite-comfortable-in-the-fade-and-it’s-perfectly-nice,” she rushed in one breath. “But since I, you know… don’t have a great deal of experience.” 

“Don’t worry, da’len, I will be with you.” 

In the tent, surely, she thought sullenly to herself. It didn’t inspire the kind of courage that he clearly thought it should. Well, even being harassed by a spirit would be better than the dull boredom she expected. She’d just have to exert a little extra caution, that was all. 

He pulled his bedroll slightly closer and began laying down some runes. She ground her teeth together. Of COURSE he needed to be closer… Because this was actually Elgar’nan, punishing her for all the wrong she’d done in her life. She could see and feel the trace of his magic, even if she couldn’t lay down so much as a simple fire rune herself. She didn’t even begin to recognize what he was doing, other than some basic wards. Probably something to do with figuring out what was wrong with her after she fell asleep. 

Then he handed her the potion. She stared at it for a moment, trying to work up her nerve. She went to drink it, then paused. “So, how long, exactly…?” 

Solas rested his hand on hers, no doubt trying to be the reassuring hahren. But right then, she would have drunk poison if he’d asked her. “The whole day, likely into the night. Don’t worry, da’len. I will be here.” 

She nodded, and before she had a chance to reconsider, she downed the whole thing, the way Iron Bull taught her to drink alcohol at the bar in Haven. 

“How long before it-“ 

She thudded down onto the tent floor. 

-

Solas caught the elven girl as she fell forward, guiding her down onto her bedroll. He smiled slightly to himself. Even when she slept, somehow she looked troublesome. While waking, she had been nervous, troubled, yet almost as soon as she was asleep, her face formed into a slight smirk. Perhaps that was her default expression? It would explain much. 

And now, Solas had a mystery to solve. How could a girl so bursting with magic possibly have trouble connecting with the Fade? Even in the time he’d known her, her skills had increased more than most mages’ did in a year. Part of that, it was possible, was the Mark, but he suspected most was simply natural talent combined with endless curiosity. No sooner than he cast a spell within sight of her than she appeared at his side, demanding he show her how it was done. No, there was certainly something else going on here. 

He examined her sleeping body, and then, prodding with his magic, her sleeping mind. Immediately, he found something wrong. He frowned, exploring further, sure that he was mistaken. How could something like this have even happened? He traced his magic around her, examining where her now sleeping mind connected with the Fade. It was as strong as any mage, as he suspected, but there was a strange darkness twining around it. 

There was no helping it. He would have to join her in the Fade, and examine the connection from there. 

-

Sleep was… as Lavellan remembered it. Nothing particularly exciting. 

She was sitting in her Keeper’s aravel. That did not surprise her, because she was _always_ sitting in her Keeper’s aravel. For what seemed like as long as she could remember, she would fall asleep, and she would be in her Keeper’s aravel. And then she would wait. Sometimes things would happen. Most of the time, not. And then she would wake up. If nothing else, it gave her time to think. From how other people spoke, she gathered this was not how most people dreamed, let alone mages, and it embarrassed her. Especially when Solas spoke grandly of the beauty he saw in the Fade. He watched ancient civilizations grow and then wink out of existence, leaving only crumbled stone. She watched the inside of an aravel. 

She spread out, sighing. She could try leaving the aravel, she supposed. Something more interesting might happen this time. Or perhaps someone would visit her? Sometimes she dreamed up the Keeper. Just last week, she dreamt of Cullen. He’d looked out of place in the aravel, and had talked rather disjointedly about cheese, but it was something to watch. 

She sat up, thinking of trying to step outside, when someone climbed into the aravel with her. Her Keeper? No, he possessed a full head of silver hair. This must be… ah! She was dreaming of Solas! Now that was a nice change. 

“An aravel?” he said, looking around. He glanced outside, and frowned. “An aravel… on top of a tree?” 

“Yep!” she said, cheerfully. “It’s my dream. Shh, don’t tell waking Solas. If he finds out, he’ll think me a terrible dullard.” 

He looked over, and something about the way his eyes glinted made her senses focus. Was this really something her own mind was coming up with? Her dreams were always awkward, with a slightly disjointed feel to them. The Solas in front of her felt… sharp, somehow. 

“Your dream? Singular? Do you dream of nothing else?” 

“Very rarely,” she said, shaking her head. “And it’s always here, in the aravel.” 

“For how long?” he demanded, moving closer. 

“Uh…” she stammered. The aravel wasn’t so large to begin with, and he was… looming, slightly. “As… as long as I can remember. Solas, what are you…?” 

“Shh,” he said, grasping her chin firmly between his fingers. “Something is very wrong.” 

“I’ll say,” she muttered under her breath. He ignored her, of course, tilting her head this way and that, gazing into her eyes, as if he could see something inside them. Maybe he could. This _was_ the Fade, and he _had_ been using odd magic. 

“Da’len, I need you to think, very hard. Did anything strange ever happen while you dreamed, as a child?” 

“Erm… it’s been this aravel for just about… Well, no, I suppose that’s not entirely true.” 

“Tell me,” he urged. 

“Well, when I was young… very young, I think, just after I came to Clan Lavellan, I had a nightmare. I dreamt of the Keeper, probably because everything was new and I was frightened. In my dream, he kept hitting me. I couldn’t get him to stop.” She trailed off. 

“And then…?” 

She frowned, concentrating. “I… I don’t remember, really. I was so young. I think I woke up, screaming. I remember the Keeper being upset, and then…” She shook her head. “Sorry, Solas. I really don’t remember. But it was very vivid, and that was the last dream I can remember before I just started dreaming of the aravel.” 

Solas was frowning, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. By now, Lavellan long since realized that she wasn’t dreaming this Solas… Somehow, he’d entered her dream. Perhaps… the strange magic, the runes she did not recognize? Although she’d never heard of magic like that. Legends of Dreamers, certainly, who walked the Fade as if fully awake, but her Keeper told her that there weren’t any, that there never would be. None existed, if they ever had. 

“Did your Keeper do anything to you?” Solas prompted. “In the waking world.” 

“Not like THAT, certainly!” she exclaimed, mildly offended. “He never struck me, not even when I set Arissa’s hair on fire.” 

“Any odd spells or rituals?” 

“We did many,” Lavellan said, wracking her sleeping mind. Where was he going with this? 

“I believe your Keeper, or someone else, may have performed a ritual on you… Extremely poorly, if what I’m seeing is any measure. It is an old elven ritual, or a bastardized version of it. Somehow, your connection with the Fade has been… corrupted, perhaps, is the word? No spirit would seek you out through this, but it makes your mind dull in the Fade, unaware, unconnected. A similar ritual was once used as punishment, to keep Dreamers from walking in the Fade freely.” 

“That makes no sense,” Lavellan protested. “Why would he do that?” 

“Perhaps because he was the exact kind of arrogant fool that the Dalish so frequently produce,” Solas snapped, causing Lavellan to wince. She tried to pull her chin from his tightly gripping hand, and he released her. That was her Keeper he was talking about! He looked genuinely furious, pacing about the aravel, however, so Lavellan decided to let the insult slide, lest that fury be aimed at her. “I believe… I believe I can reverse the process. Hopefully, no serious damage was done. Fehendis… If I ever get my hands on that Keeper of yours…” 

“We don’t even know it was him!” she protested. 

“I will once I fix this. Hold still. Relax your mind.” 

She didn’t dare ask him to hold on, or to explain a little bit more in depth as to what the ever flying fuck he was talking about. He looked pissed, and he was pushing her down into a laying position, kneeling next to her. That wasn’t going to make it easy to “relax her mind,” which was buzzing with new information and conflicting emotions. She didn’t need proximity to Solas added onto the list of things her mind couldn’t stop thinking about. 

He placed a hand on each side of her temple, and she took a deep breath. There would be time to ask questions later, she decided. The last time she’d seen Solas rush like this, she’d been bleeding out on the grass, nearly run through by a rage demon’s claws. It must be serious, to have him acting so rash. 

She became aware of a strange, tugging sensation. It was as if something was attempting to pull her brain out through her eye sockets. It started as unpleasant, and quickly moved into painful territory. She cried out, not sure what was happening and whether or not this sensation was intentional. 

“Atisha, da’len. You must be still,” came Solas’ voice, wavering, as if from a great distance. “There is damage… I must… Da’len, take a deep breath.” 

She did, not sure what effect something like that could have in the Fade. The pressure behind her eyes increased, threatening to burst her skull like an overripe melon. And then, a bizarre sensation, like being twisted inside-out. Her body felt tight, and then loose, and then all was lost in a sudden rush of sensation. 

She struggled her way through it, trying to find something to grasp onto. It was like the time she fell into a river as a child, nearly drowned. She struggled through the sensations, bright colors and booming sounds, and found something to grasp to: a warm, safe feeling, like being wrapped up in a blanket. She focused on that as sounds, sights, and smells assaulted her. 

Slowly, the sensations began to get less intense, more organized. She focused on the warm feeling, and began coming back into herself. Soon, the only thing she could see was a soft green. She twitched, and found she was still in her body… or at least she felt like it, anyway. She pulled her head back. The soft green was the green of Solas’ vest. His arms were wrapped around her, but loosened as she moved. 

She glanced around. Bright! It was damned bright. Colors momentarily assaulted her vision again, and she shook her head slowly to clear her mind. They were in a golden field of barley, and she was _very confused._

She turned to Solas, who was looking more satisfied than he was concerned. One thing at a time, she decided. Simple questions first. 

“What the fuck was that?” she said. Or, she supposed, she could just throw that out, instead of an intelligent question. Ugh. 

“I will try to explain, da’len. Your connection with the Fade had been corrupted. Deliberately, in a bastardized ritual. I apologize; I did not expect it to cause you pain. If the ritual had been done correctly in the first place, it would not have hurt to repair.” 

“Felas, hahren, I cannot understand,” she protested. “Why is everything so… bright? And loud?” 

Solas rubbed a hand across his brow, looking pained. “You are experiencing the Fade fully, likely for the first time in over a decade. It will doubtless take some time to accustom yourself to.” 

“A ritual… to separate me from the Fade? Like a Tranquil?” she asked, her mind spinning back and forth. 

“No, not really. The Rite of Tranquility, as I understand, separates the victim entirely from the Fade. They lose their magic, as well as their dreams and emotions. This ritual was designed for Dreamers. Those who abused their powers were… captured, trapped, so that when they slept, they could not freely wander the Fade.” 

“Dreamers? But those don’t exist,” she protested. 

Solas snorted. “I assure you, da’len, they certainly do. Perhaps they are rarer now than they once were, but there have always been dreamers. How do you think I walk freely in the Fade?” 

Lavellan gaped at him. “But… my Keeper said…” 

“Your Keeper also risked your life and magic in a foolish attempt to seal you off from wandering the Fade. He was clearly not a man of great intelligence.” 

She stung at the insult again, but was too confused to focus on it. “Why would he do that? Why would he need to?” she protested. 

“I have my suspicions. The dreams, from your childhood, do you remember them any more clearly now?” 

She began to reply in the negative, but then actually thought back, and found she did. A lot of things were becoming sharper, more in focus, along with her surroundings. 

“I dreamt more than once,” she realized. “It was a repeating nightmare. The Keeper, and others, they would hit me. Sometimes others would offer to take me away from the Keeper, but they scared me as well. And then… The Keeper took me into his aravel. Thick smoke, heavy lungs, burning eyes… And then I only dreamt of the aravel.” She blinked, realization slowly dawning on her. “Isala nan! What did he do?!” 

“He locked your sleeping mind away, so that you would not be tormented by the demons, rather than educate you in dealing with them,” Solas said darkly. “Likely because doing so was beyond him. I suspect, da’len, that you will find you can wander well and truly into the Fade now. That magic would not have worked, if you could not wander the Fade yourself, as I do.” 

Many would jokingly say that nothing in the world could render Lavellan speechless, but that certainly did it. She stared blankly at Solas, her mind refusing to comprehend. 

“As… you do?” she said, finally. 

“Yes. The ritual would have no effect if you could not walk your dreams.” Solas frowned. “Or, it may have merely snapped your connection with the Fade, or corrupted your mind itself. It was a foolish endeavor, made by a terrified idiot.” 

Lavellan winced, but she found she could not disagree. She could even hear the Keeper rationalizing the decision… After all, if a single one of those demons possessed her, the Clan would have been in great danger. It was probably a last resort, before simply turning her out into the woods. But this was an awful lot to absorb at once, not helped by the fact that everything was so damned bright. It was like a hangover. 

Something horrible dawned on her. “Fehendis! I can’t wake up, can I?” she said, her voice jumping a few octaves in panic. “I haven’t met a spirit in the Fade since I was a child, and I’m stuck here all day!” 

“Atisha, da’en,” Solas soothed her, running a hand through her hair. “I am here. I will stay. Breathe.” 

She did as he commanded, struggling to calm her stuttering heart. No one knew more about the Fade than Solas. Surely she would be fine while he was here. 

But what of the future? He wouldn’t always be there, and now she must learn control, like a child. She sunk her face into her hands, not sure whether to be angry with her Keeper, or with Solas, or with herself. 

“Da’asha, look.” Solas’ voice was a soft constant. At least that was the same in and out of the Fade. She looked up, to see what he was on about. A soft gasp escaped her lips. Little… little bits of light, floating around them! 

“Wisps,” Solas said, smiling. “Come to see who wanders the Fade. They are harmless, da’asha.” He pushed her up and forward a little, and she stood, somewhat shakily. The little wisps came and danced around her. Were they… cooing? Such a strange sound. She reached out, and one alighted on her hand. She giggled; it tickled, a little. 

“Not all of the Fade is nightmares, Lethanna.” She started to hear her name cross his lips. “There is much beauty here. I will try to show it to you. And I will give you the tools you need to protect yourself from unkind spirits. I swear to you, you will be fine.” 

She smiled, weakly, and for the first time, realized the full implications of what he was saying. She could walk the Fade. She could see the ancient empires he spoke of with such reverence, at least the echoes of them. Even the simple field of barley she now stood in was so heart-achingly beautiful. That she had spent the last twelve years of sleep locked into an aravel now seemed like a shameful waste. 

The wisps danced in front of her glittering eyes, and she smiled. 

“Show me _everything._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> This. Took me. Forever. I'm no good with this Fade stuff, I swear. x_x 
> 
> Yes, in this chapter, Solas brain goes "Inquistor = monkey," that is a thing that happened. Specifically, she reminded him of a very hyperactive spider monkey. This may be explored more in depth later when I have an excuse to bring a monkey in. 
> 
> I like the idea that a 19 year old elf declaring herself "old" would make him absolutely lose it. "Oh yes, Lavellan, surely you are like unto the ancient elves themselves." 
> 
> Shout to Mithrakana, who gave me some excellent writing advice for this chapter.


End file.
